


Full of Grace

by Kuroeia (Empatheia)



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-18
Updated: 2008-03-18
Packaged: 2017-11-09 06:31:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/452384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Empatheia/pseuds/Kuroeia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was too much to ask of someone so young, but they could have done worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Full of Grace

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by: forthrightly  
> Prompt: noblesse oblige

To whom much is given, much is expected.

Yuuri had never had much, and he was not very fond of books, but Gwendal realized after the first year of his reign that intellectually or not, Yuuri understood the concept very well.

At first he'd been understandably selfish, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of responsibility heaped on him and helplessly homesick for the world he knew. He ran from his studies, evaded as much work as possible, and constantly whinged about what was wrong with the country he'd found himself unexpectedly leading.

Gwendal had not blamed him for any of that. No one really had, no matter how irritating it got at times. He was just a boy who had never had much of anything to his name, let alone an entire nation looking to him for guidance.

It was an enormous burden to ask anyone to carry, let alone a silly schoolchild who had never even held down a steady job.

It had been completely, utterly unreasonable of them to even ask.

And yet...

Gwendal looked over his desk to where Yuuri sat in the bay window, stack of reports next to his knee and glasses perched studiously on his nose. The latter were a recent affectation — he claimed they made his head hurt less after hours of staring at cramped, blotchy ink.

The stack was about halfway completed. Yuuri's eyelids were drooping, but he wasn't skipping over any of them, not anymore. Now he made messy little notes in the margins for future investigation, sorted the papers into categories, and occasionally asked Gwendal questions about possible policy changes.

He was still a child, but he was also a king, and he knew that all the luxuries that title heaped on him were meant to be compensation for working hard on his subjects' behalf.

With a soft sigh of surrender, Yuuri tilted forwards, head landing on the pile of papers with a muffled thump. Soft snores floated over to where Gwendal sat, suppressing his laughter.

He stood up and cracked his stiff neck — when had he moved last? — then fetched a blanket from his room down the hall and draped it over his little king.

Yuuri was taking care of everyone, as a good king should.

Gwendal would take care of him.

**X**


End file.
